Pretentious Synonyms for Black and Red
by Elendraug
Summary: Hay guys I found mah Xenosaga OTP. Collection of 31? Nigredo x Rubedo drabbles. Various ratings and genres. Slash.
1. Intro and URTV Happy Happy Fun Time

** GIGANTIC, LIKELY UNNECESSARY INTRODUCTION **

Wow, haven't written a genuine author's note in a while. So. Yeah. HI EVERYONE. 8D What to say, what to say...

**Well, the ****short version is that ****this is a collection of drabbles about Nigredo (Gaignun Kukai) and Rubedo (Jr.) from Xenosaga, and most of them are downright gaytastic. don't like don't read omglol and all that. SOME OF THEM MIGHT HAVE SPOILERS so be careful. If t****hat's all you need to know, by all means go ahead and click to the next chapter right now. Enjoy. :D**

The longer version is that I absolutely adore these two. Up until the end of XSII, the pairing didn't even occur to me. I can't really tell you why. Probably a combination of being preoccupied with Allen and the Elsa crew, and also a general "DUUURRRP" reaction to anything that seemed too complicated to process without full knowledge of the series, i.e. everything. But once I started paying attention, went back and rewatched cutscenes, dug through dialogue, and of course saw the almost-end of XSIII, I realized just how deep their feelings for each other run. Their utter devotion to each other through years of hardship is truly amazing, and that really appealed to me. On a less pretentious note, they're also immensely powerful and wealthy and can do almost anything they want, so that's appealing from a fanfiction-writing-perspective, too. INFINITE POSSIBILITIES amirite?

So yeah. These drabbles are mostly fluff, though some contain anger, humor, sex, foul language, etc. (I'm giving this an R rating overall; you guys can gauge whether or not you're comfortable with that.) Some were based on fanart, some on inspiration from the game, some on music, some on suggestions from my friends. Some might mess with canon, though I tried to keep details true to the game when possible; they will be posted throughout the month of May in the order I wrote them, not chronologically within the XS timeline. They weren't written for any higher purpose other than to explore their relationship and how I interpret it. I'm not trying to start a shipwar, change anyone's opinions, or make some gigantic statement. I just love them. :3 I also don't own Xenosaga or its characters, but we all knew that.

For the second group who actually read all the way down here, thank you. I hope you enjoy these, too.

- elendraug

* * *

**U.R.T.V. Happy Happy Fun Time!**

Rubedo found a red balloon. Albedo thought the balloon looked sad. Nigredo read the balloon's thoughts and confirmed that yes, the balloon was indeed quite sad.

They set out on a quest through the Yuriev Institute to find something that would cheer the balloon up. Along the way, they met a nurse with a severe latex allergy and got in trouble for bringing the balloon near her. This made them sad, too.

They would've tried to feed the balloon ice cream, but of course everybody knows that balloons can't eat. There was also an unfortunate lack of ice cream at the Institute, which made them sadder.

"We should buy the balloon a present!" suggested Rubedo.

"We don't have any money," Albedo pointed out.

"At any rate, we've somewhat justified the author note included in this chapter," said Nigredo, "so hopefully things will come to a close now."

The fourth wall fell on the three Variants.

Citrine found their balloon and gave it a good home.


	2. 1: in fields where we lay

* * *

**( 1 )**

* * *

**  
**

Rubedo shifts slightly, nuzzling his cheek against Nigredo's shirt, and sighs contentedly. Crisp fall air rushes around them, teasingly stealing any heat that's not trapped between their bodies and beneath their coats.

Nigredo runs a hand through his hair and removes a leaf that'd gotten stuck. The ground is cool and flat, covered by a bedsheet-cum-picnic-blanket that has now wrinkled and tangled itself beneath them. Surrounded by the vibrant, rich oranges and reds of fallen foliage, they cling to each other for comfort and warmth -- not that the day is unpleasant, simply a bit windy.

Clutching a beloved book to his chest, Rubedo keeps his eyes closed and seeks Nigredo's hand. He locates his brother's forearm and slides his loose grip up until their fingers brush together. Nigredo clasps Rubedo's hand in his own, the simple, affectionate touch enhanced by freeflowing, easygoing psychic harmony.

Rubedo dreams of forgotten ships at sea and space; Nigredo dreams of elegant skyscrapers and philanthropy.

The wind rushes around them, and they are in peace.


	3. 2: plastic stars

* * *

**( 2 )**

* * *

Morning sunlight is bright and gentle, warming his face through the window. Jr. turns to press his cheek to the book he's using as a makeshift pillow, wriggling closer to the mattress in a half-asleep attempt to generate heat.

He's found that silk dress shirts make excellent pajamas. The one he's wearing now smells good (_very good_, he thinks, sniffing the collar and smiling), and looks good next to the green tie curled around his arm.

Yawning, he stretches his legs and stays right where he is. 


	4. 3: reconstruction site

* * *

**( 3 )**

* * *

Second Miltia's traffic is bright and busy in the dimming sunset. Headlights shine softly through the tinted window that Rubedo is staring at. Chin on his knuckles, he watches everyone else speed by, watches the rest of the world go about its business. 

He shakes his head, ending the twilit reverie, and turns to look at his brother. Yet another reason he's glad they don't have to drive; Nigredo needs these backseat naps. He doesn't rest enough otherwise.

Eyes half-lidded, Rubedo sends him a mental wave of warmth and affection. Nigredo smiles in his sleep and scoots over to rest his head on Rubedo's shoulder.

Feeling like his heart shouldn't fit in his chest, Rubedo fights the need to stroke his cheek, and lets him sleep.


	5. 4: bike thief

* * *

**( 4 )**

* * *

"...but where would we _use_ it?" 

"Around, I guess."

"We have our own spaceship."

"Yeah... Isn't it nice, though?"

"Oh, absolutely. Just, uh. Don't you think its owner is probably missing it?"

"I made sure I left a lot of money where it'd been."

"Think Shelley'd mind if we took it to the park?"

"Well if she did, that's just too bad, huh?"

"Sounds good to me."

* * *

much love to Chozo for this one's inspiration.


	6. 5: underneath the starlight

* * *

**( 5 )**

* * *

The air has never smelled recycled.

Rubedo inhales deeply, savoring the scent of grass and trees and _real soil_, and shifts closer to Nigredo. They're sitting together, leaning back against the fountain, the occasional water droplets leaping to land in their hair.

Nigredo curls his arm tighter around his brother, his partner, his best friend, absently rubbing small circles Rubedo's shoulder with his knuckles. It's warm and comfortable, and the brilliantly clear windows of the _Durandal_ provide a bright and beautiful view of the stars.

"Someone should find a way," Rubedo mumbles, nuzzling his cheek against Nigredo's chest.

"A way to do what?" he asks, happy and drowsy.

Rubedo kisses Nigredo's shirt.

"To stop time."

Nigredo kisses Rubedo's hair.

"I don't want to leave this moment, either." 


	7. 6: swear

* * *

**( 6 )**

* * *

"Can I see yet?" 

"...well."

"Oh, come on."

"If you insist."

Gaignun strides confidently into the room, head up and broad shoulders back, sauntering halfway to Jr. before turning on his heel. His jacket catches the wind caused by the sudden move and glides behind him. Completing the turn, he faces Jr. and grins dazzlingly, the light catching the exquisite, expensive details on his lapel and the meticulously styled spikes of his hair. His tie is adjusted just so, his clothing custom-tailored to a perfect, flattering fit. He _glows._

Jr. grins back, beaming at him almost uncontrollably. 

"You. Look _hot._"

The next thing he knows, they're kissing each other desperately. Jr. closes his eyes, runs his hands down Gaignun's fabric-covered chest, and shivers. 

Gaignun exhales shakily against the corner of Jr.'s mouth.

"Why, thank you."


	8. 7: drifting

* * *

**( 7 )**

* * *

**  
**Rubedo sits on the bed, back supported by pillows propped against the headrest, legs stretched out and balancing a book. Books -- _real_ paper books -- are their favorite things. Nigredo curls against him, temple resting on Rubedo's thigh, sleepy and lying on his side. 

"They were standing in the shade of hazel bushes," he reads aloud, words dulcet and soothing. "The sunlight, filtering through innumerable leaves, was still hot on their faces. Winston looked out into the field beyond, and underwent a curious, slow shock of recognition. He knew it by sight."

Rubedo adjusts the small light he's attached to the top of the book; the rest of the room is dark and calm around them. Nigredo nuzzles his cheek against Rubedo's pajama pants.

"An old, close-bitten pasture, with a footpath wandering across it and a molehill here and there. In the ragged hedge on the opposite side the boughs of the elm trees swayed just perceptibly in the breeze, and their leaves stirred faintly in the dense masses like women's hair. Surely somewhere nearby, but out of sight, there must be a stream with green pools, where dace were swimming?"

Rubedo sighs happily. "I love this part." Nigredo mumbles his own assent.

" 'Isn't there a stream somewhere near here?' he whispered." He alters his tone of voice just slightly when different characters speak. " 'That's right, there is a stream. It's at the edge of the next field, actually. There are fish in it, great big ones. You can watch them lying in the pools under the willow trees, waving their tails.' "

Rubedo absently, fondly, gently runs his fingers through Nigredo's hair, occasionally stroking his cheek instead, whenever the whim takes him. Nigredo makes soft, contented noises, and his breathing slows and deepens.

" 'It's the Golden Country -- almost,' he murmured. 'The Golden Country?' 'It's nothing, really. A landscape I've seen sometimes in a dream.' "

Nigredo's head rests a bit more heavily on Rubedo's leg. Smiling, he shuts and sets down the book. Pulling the plentiful blankets up to better cover them, he settles more comfortably back against the pillows. Rubedo continues to pet Nigredo's hair until he, too, drifts into peaceful sleep.

* * *

excerpts from 1984 by George Orwell, which is in the public domain in some countries, but not all. I feel justified in quoting it, however -- if fantards can write songfics to good charlotte lyrics and not get banned, then I can quote far less than ten percent from one of the best books of all time. 8O if it's really that much of an issue I'll take it down, but probably no one will even notice.


	9. 8: brick

* * *

**( 8 )  
**

* * *

Nigredo loves these buildings.

He rests his palm against the wall, curling his fingers until the rough surface scritches off a small, powdery layer of his nails. These bricks have imperfections, blemishes on their surfaces; he adores that. More people should acknowledge and appreciate the flaws of the world. Despite what some residents of the Foundation think, he's always glad that he insisted upon traditional construction methods.

"Are you done molesting the bakery?"

Turning his head sharply, surprised, he stares at his brother for a moment before smirking evilly.

"Jealous?"

Rubedo sticks his tongue out at him, and Nigredo takes advantage of it.

**  
**


	10. 9: amor inmenso

* * *

**( 9 )**

* * *

  
"Your tie," Rubedo says, "is falling off."

"I," Nigredo says, "don't mind."

There's a recently-emptied bottle of liquor on his desk; between the two of them, it didn't take long to finish. Someone decided to search the UMN for music; Nigredo nods his head to the beat, and grins as he watches his brother.

Rubedo sways dizzily but happily to the thumping synthpop. He could be dancing, or he could be having a seizure. Neither is entirely sure which is the case.

Standing and joining him, Nigredo takes his hand and spins him around a few times, giggling helplessly as Rubedo loses his balance and falls back against his sibling's chest. Nigredo holds him and sways more, warmed by good drinks, good feelings, and good songs.

Soon enough, he too loses his balance, and they both topple to the bed in fits of laughter. Rubedo tries to hit Nigredo with a pillow but gives up halfway and kisses him sloppily instead.

Nigredo's tie lies in a small, wrinkled heap on the floor, dusty where it was stepped on.


	11. 10: art

* * *

**( 10 ) **

* * *

Rubedo exhales, warm breath leaving moisture on the smooth surface. He drags one fingertip down slowly, carefully leaving a heated mark, even if it'll soon be invisible.

"What are you doing?"

"Drawing."

Nigredo walks closer to Rubedo, catching him in a hug-from-behind when his brother steps back.

"Yeah?"

Rubedo moves one hand to grasp Nigredo's forearm, and the other to point at the Durandal's fogged window.

"Can you tell what it is?"

Nigredo rests his chin on Rubedo's head, snuffling his hair while considering the makeshift artwork.

"Well. ...hm. Either a headless, double-jointed 100-series doing an interpretive dance, or a Zohar emulator."

Rubedo snorts and pulls Nigredo's arms tighter around himself.

"You're an ass."


	12. 11: procrastination

* * *

**( 11 )**

* * *

Rubedo presses his nose against the pillow, flinging an arm over his eyes to shield them from the room's lights. He grunts, kicks at the sheets, and finally lies still. 

Nigredo sighs, leaning heavily on his desk, chin in palm. The list of files he needs to review and evaluate is truly daunting and absolutely unappealing. Unfortunately, it must be done.

He glances at his brother, then back to the screen. ...then back to his brother. He raises an eyebrow.

"You're not asleep."

No response.

Frowning but shrugging it off, he turns his attention back to his work. A wave of heat destroys his concentration, washing over him before quickly settling in the pit of his stomach. He lets out a short puff of breath, then raises both eyebrows and sends Rubedo another _look_.

"I hope this is amusing you." 

Silence.

He spends another ten minutes sorting through various bland and boring business messages, deleting a third and replying to the rest. It's painstaking and tedious and--

Extremely enticing mental images suddenly flood his mind's eye. He buries his face in his hands, simply _stopping_ for a good minute or two. Disbelief and indigation eventually give way to desire when it doesn't end. He grudgingly moves a hand to touch himself through his pants; anything to sate it _just_ a bit...

... 

"I _heard_ that! You laughed!"

Nigredo stands up, privacy be damned, and seeks revenge with a swift hundred-sixty-pounds-to-the-spinal-cord attack. He unloads an onslaught of his own carefully selected mental images while tickling Rubedo relentlessly. 

"Ahhhh, _bastard!_"

Nigredo leans down and kisses the nape of his neck. 

"The work needs to get done at some point. Hopefully soon. So." He sits back up, using Rubedo as a somewhat satisfactory chair. "Either you actually take a nap and I do it now, or we do something else, and _you_ finish it later." He drags his fingers along Rubedo's shoulder blades, fabric soft to the touch. "Your call."

Rubedo squirms and rolls over beneath him, reaching for his tie and pulling him down. 

"As if there was a decision to make."

Nigredo's honestly glad for the break.


	13. 12: midmorning

* * *

**( 12 )**

* * *

Second Miltia is bright and full of hope, fresh starts, and relative freedom; sunlight streams in through the wide window of newly-Representative Helmer's new office.

Nigredo and Rubedo lay sprawled on the carpet, facing each other, close to the window and warmed by its sunshine. A portable screen is situated between them. They scribble and sketch with styluses, choosing new colors from a digital palette whenever the mood strikes them.

Rubedo draws trees and swingsets, green grass and blue skies meeting at the horizon. Nigredo draws the oceans he's never seen, extinct seagulls casting small shadows on the sand. Plastic against pixels scritches quietly, making slight, soft noises; their bangs brush when their foreheads touch.

Sunwarmth is soothing and sweeps over them. Artwork is postponed temporarily.

They nap until Helmer wakes them for lunch. 


	14. 13: one great city

* * *

**( 13 )**

* * *

****

The sun sets as they sit on the swingset. Rubedo kicks his feet, tugs at the chains until he feels he could touch the clouds.

Nigredo watches red-orange fade to hazy grey, notices the evening chill sooner. He worries for Rubedo, worries he'll fall, worries for gravel ground into fragile skin, for scraped knees and bandages. He simply sits, still on the plastic seat and content to watch Rubedo soar.

"I'm flying!" shouts Rubedo, thrilled and filled with adrenaline.

"Be careful," Nigredo warns, sighing as his eyes follow back and forth.

"Watch this!" shouts Rubedo, a bit too much of a daredevil.

"Don't jump," Nigredo warns, standing and moving in a wide arc.

Rubedo yelps excitedly and leaps on the upswing, circling his arms and keeping his sights set on the sky.

Nigredo opens his arms, braces himself, then both winces and sighs in relief when Rubedo crashes heavily against him. He lands hard on the sea of tiny rocks, falling back to let his head rest on the cool surface.

"You could've broken something," Nigredo says, and Rubedo says, "Thanks for catching me."

"You're an idiot," Nigredo says, and Rubedo says, "I love you, too."  
**  
**


	15. 14: breakfast

* * *

**( 14 )**

* * *

Smile Bakery has the best bagels in the galaxy.

They may well be the only authentic ones, for that matter; most people have forgotten the intricacies of breadmaking and remain sadly ignorant of such small joys.

Gaignun Kukai and Gaignun Kukai, Jr. sit at a table beside the building, pink tablecloth caught in the recycled-but-fresher-than-ever breeze. It's a pleasant day -- not that the Foundation's ever particularly unpleasant, deliberate rainfall or no -- and real bagels with close-enough cream cheese make it even better.

They eat in comfortable silence, leisurely sipping clear, cold water and watching the Foundation's residents going about their business. Clean laundry airs dry on a temporary clothesline; Johnny tries valiantly to impress Mina; one of the King's lackeys touches up paint on an antique car.

Nigredo catches Rubedo's eye across the table and smiles, genuine and kind; Rubedo holds his gaze and initiates the easy ebb and flow of psychic affection. They bask in the generated, perfect morning sunlight, happy in the center of cobblestone sidewalk, treasuring fleeting moments. 


	16. 15: reflection

* * *

**( 15 )**

* * *

They sit on the edge of the fountain, two flights of stairs above the city. Brilliant starlight illuminates the Foundation, bathing everything in an ethereal glow.

They hold hands: a simple gesture, almost to the point of being trite, but still just as meaningful in the end. The world -- their private, constructed world -- is nearly silent, save for soft breathing and the trickling of the current. No noisy traffic interrupts the peace, no glaring streetlights overpower the natural ambiance of nightfall.

They remain motionless for a long while. At times like this, when he's safe, loved, and content, Rubedo can like his reflection. The rippling, shimmering surface of the water blurs his image just enough, fixes the picture just enough that he can see himself as he wants to be.

They sit together, quietly. Nigredo kisses him on the cheek, and life is good.


	17. 16: puzzle

* * *

**( 16 )**

* * *

Rain patters against sloped roof of the docked Durandal. Tiny, glittering droplets catch residual sunlight as they course down the window, melding together to swerve out of sight in larger rivulets. The Foundation's flawlessly recreated weather has drawn the attention of countless tourists and residents alike; the Directors are still immensely proud of it, and all the talented programmers who invested their time and work into the project.

Rubedo sits atop Nigredo's desk and idly pushes a digital puzzle piece into place. His brother taps the screen and rotates the image to face him; Nigredo seeks another solution, another small accomplishment in the larger series. He finds it, drags his fingertip across until this one fits as well, and spins the picture back for Rubedo again.

The mid-afternoon passes by, and finally the puzzle is complete. A stunningly vibrant photograph of Old Miltia's sparse countryside pauses briefly for them to appreciate its long-gone beauty. Too soon, not soon enough, the pieces separate and crossfade into something too jumbled to identify.

Rain continues to fall, and they start again. 


	18. 17: beloved reruns

* * *

**( 17 )**

* * *

The room isn't as dark as it could be. 

Starlight and citylight stream in through the window, leaving illuminated rectangles stretched on the floor, ceiling, bed, and walls. Much as Rubedo loves living in a spaceship, he deeply loves living in a skyscraper. Seeing the world sideways and from above never grows dull.

The Foundation lies far below them. No one else can see the glow of the screen; no one else can see the Directors in t-shirts and baggy shorts; no one else can comment on the Bunnie-pattern blanket draped over their backs.

Rubedo lifts his feet, blanket folding in the crook of his knees as he lets his raised legs sway. Nigredo's warm beside him, elbows and hips pressed together as they sprawl. Bored but content to be, Rubedo switches data streams every few seconds. It amazes him that the U.M.N. can be infinite, yet still lack anything good to watch.

Documentary on exotic flowers; news report of bland events on Second Miltia; HaKox strategies for professional players; eighty-seven ways to cook curry; infomercial for Vector's latest something-or-others.

Iron 3.

They turn to look at each other and laugh. Nostalgia, familiarity, amusement; this show's been on _forever_, and never improves its quality. They love it anyway. Yawning, Nigredo folds his arms and lets his head rest atop them, content to simply listen to the reruns.

Soon enough -- as always -- the show's initial appeal fails to capture Rubedo's attention for very long. Drowsy, he watches his brother through half-lidded eyes. The lines of light shine on the back of his head, highlight his mussed hair, turn his partially-shadowed features into a silhouette. 

Rubedo lets his feet drop and settles against Nigredo's side, burrowing against the mattress and seeking body heat. Curled up close, sleepy and safe, he turns off the screen and slowly drifts off.


	19. 18: beach

* * *

**( 18 )**

* * *

"So I think," Nigredo says, panting heavily against Rubedo's cheek, "we could use more sand." 

"On the far end?" Rubedo asks, shifting himself in Nigredo's lap and grunting. The arm of the plastic chair digs into his thigh, but this new position is _much_ better--

"Yeah, because," Nigredo presses a breathy, open-mouthed kiss to Rubedo's throat. "Erosion." 

"Ahhh. Right." He leans into the touch, snaking his arms around Nigredo's shoulders. "And the um. Decorative--"

"Hmmm?" He's licking his collarbone, and it's very distracting.

"Decorative rocks. For the tourists."

"Those." When Rubedo moves his hips forward, they both exhale sharply. "Definitely."

Nigredo seals his mouth over Rubedo's, and everything's hot and wet and the presence of the beach has nothing to do with it. Rubedo presses down again, and again, and there was a _damn good reason _they bought such comfortable swim trunks.

"Productive meeting, right? Business meeting." One arm still resting on his brother's shoulder, Rubedo slides a hand between them and groans, unashamed. 

Grinning charmingly, Nigredo moves his hand, too, the other stroking the small of Rubedo's back. "I'm glad we decided to have this conversation."


	20. 19: slideshow

* * *

**( 19 )**

* * *

Rubedo yawns and sips his coffee. On the other side of the table, Nigredo's pretending (and quite convincingly, at that) to be interested. A frumpily-dressed businessman gestures to various bullet points on a horrifically boring slideshow presentation. 

"...and by the end of this fiscal year, Fielrua, Incorporated hopes to bring new technology to the market, such as these fashionable A.G.W.S. decals. Expensive paint jobs are no longer necessary to pilot in style; allowing soldiers to customize their machines can boost morale significantly!"

Nigredo nods encouragingly. Rubedo contemplates drowning himself in the coffee mug.

_This guy's a piece of work, isn't he?_

_I want to diiiiiieeee._

Nigredo grins widely, and tilts his head towards the salesman. 

_Should I?_

_I dare you. I so dare you._

Folding his hands and resting his chin atop them, Nigredo studies -- or seems to study -- him, when in reality... 

_How long, do you think?_

_I give it five seconds._

"...and also helps fight eyestrain and boredom. The next product is--" He pauses in a pathetic attempt to discreetly scratch his ass. "--the affordable, practical Gnosis-induced-headache preventer, which works by--" 

Rubedo snorts into his coffee. Nigredo flashes him a quick smile.

"...and I sincerely hope the Kukai Foundation will choose to invest in Fielrua, Incorporated. Thank you for your time, sirs."

"I assure you, you're most welcome." Nigredo shakes his hand. Rubedo moves to shake his hand, as well, and receives a skeptical look before the businessman accepts the gesture.

_He's wondering whether or not it's 'bring your kid to work' day._

_Make him suddenly have visions of Gnosis having sex._

Nigredo coughs into his fist as the salesman hastily leaves. "Ahem. Well, then." 

"Yeah." Rubedo drains the rest of the coffee and leaves the mug on the table. "Lunch?"

"Of course."


	21. 20: rainyday

* * *

**( 20 )**

* * *

Rubedo loves the Foundation's weather. Specifically, he loves that they can coax it into doing almost anything that seems appealing. From sunlight to snow... even thunderstorms can be enjoyable.

Right now they're seated on a bench, listening to the raindrops splash upon the surface of the fountain. It's a sunshower, and a light one at that -- who needs an umbrella? Besides, they're already dressed in comfortable, waterproof jackets.

Nigredo tilts his head back, letting the droplets fall on him; the water is cool and refreshing against his face. Without worrying about it (outward appearances can be damned for a minute), he sticks out his tongue to catch a few.

Rubedo finds this both amusing and endearing. He watches his brother for a while, then finally gives in to temptation and gently brushes damp bangs off Nigredo's forehead.


	22. 21: dead leaves and the dirty ground

* * *

**( 21 )**

* * *

"You," Nigredo announces, shoving the door closed behind them, "are _soaked._"

"So are you!" Rubedo insists, pointing accusatorily at him. "And it was _your_ idea to sit out there in the first place." He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, huffing triumphantly.

He's caught completely offguard when Nigredo suddenly grabs his shoulders and, in a truly devil-may-care moment, lets himself fall to the floor, dragging Rubedo with him. They hit the ground awkwardly, limbs everywhere. Rubedo rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling for a disconcerted moment, then lightly thwacks Nigredo.

"Dumbass."

"Yeah?" Nigredo rests on his side, holding his chin in his palm. "I'm a dumbass."

Rubedo raises his eyebrows, taunting him. "Oh, yeah. You are."

"Alright then."

Without any warning whatsoever, Nigredo grabs the bottom hem of Rubedo's shirt and yanks it up, trapping his head and arms. Just as quickly, he's got his legs pinned.

"Hey!"

"Something wrong?" Rubedo can't see Nigredo smirking. He slides a palm across the flat plane of Rubedo's stomach.

"Asshole." He struggles to escape the shirt's evil clutches.

"So I'm a dumb asshole now?" Nigredo asks casually, leaning in to use his brother as a makeshift pillow. Warm breath hits Rubedo's navel, and he shudders.

Finally free, Rubedo whaps Nigredo's head with the wet shirt. "Yep. No doubt about it."

Nigredo sighs wistfully, pointedly ignoring the attack. "Oh, I dunno. I think I'd rather be a dumbwaiter, to be honest--"

Before he can finish the sentence, Rubedo's tackling him and tugging at his shirt, too. Unfortunately, Nigredo's has buttons. He sits on Nigredo's chest and undoes a few, but then gives up. Defeated, Rubedo's lost all momentum. He reaches for Nigredo's slightly-sodden tie and messes with it.

"Entertaining yourself?"

Rubedo lifts his head, looks down at Nigredo in a faux-"too-high-class-for-you" way and nods. For lack of a more creative idea, he bites the tie and holds it in his mouth, though he can't entirely throw caution to the wind; it _is_ his brother's favorite one. It isn't about to get chewed.

"That tie belongs to a dumb asshole, y'know."

"S'okay." Rubedo leans closer and speaks around the cloth, words mangled but understandable. "I like dumb assholes, _and_ their ties."

Nigredo settles a hand on the small of Rubedo's back, smiles, and kisses him through the green silk.


	23. 22: game

* * *

**( 22 )**

* * *

Shelley finds Mary lying motionless on the floor in the Durandal's residential area hallway. She rushes to her side, concerned.

"Mary! Are you okay?"

"Shhh!" Mary holds a finger to her lips. "You'll ruin it, silly!"

"What?"

"Little Master got me, y'see."

Shelley raises both eyebrows. "No, Mary, I really don't see."

Mary sighs dramatically. "Those toy guns they bought when we stopped a few hours ago? _I'm_ a Gnosis, see, and they're... I'm not sure what they are, but they're saving the universe or somethin'."

Shelley gives her another quizzical look. "You do that, then."

Mary "hmphs" and goes back to sprawling awkwardly on the floor. Shelley shakes her head and decides to go back to the bridge.


	24. 23: suit

* * *

**( 23 )**

* * *

"You look," Rubedo says between quick, heated kisses, "so damn good." 

Nigredo smiles and accepts the compliment. "Thank you. You look great, too--"

Rubedo shakes his head. "No. Seriously. Nigredo, you have no idea." He pulls back just enough to give him another once-over. "Shit. You have no idea."

Laughing softly, Nigredo pulls Rubedo close again and kisses him. "I'd like to think I do, but okay."

Rubedo laughs, too, but more in persistent disbelief than anything. "I dunno if you get what it does to me, though." He pulls away completely and moves to shove Nigredo's chair against the wall-supported part of his desk. "Sit?"

Nodding, Nigredo does so, and watches as Rubedo almost frantically divests himself of clothing. Unabashed, Rubedo allows himself a quick stroke or two before rejoining his brother. He straddles Nigredo's leg and indulgently slides his hands over the sleek fabric covering his chest, stopping only to pet the silk of his tie, too.

What started as amusing and slightly embarrassing now has Nigredo entranced. He simply _stares_ at Rubedo until it occurs to him he's not being active. Not wanting to disrupt the fantasy too much, he lightly caresses Rubedo's shoulder.

"Do you want me to--" 

Rubedo cuts him off with a sudden kiss; deep and sensual, and more than enough to spur him into further action. Arms looped around Nigredo's neck for support, Rubedo thrusts needily against his thigh. The cloth rubbing against the underside of his erection, the heat and intimacy of the moment, the smell that is Nigredo-and-lingering-cologne... It's enough to make Nigredo reel from the psychic feedback's intensity.

Nigredo runs his hands up and down Rubedo's back, panting lightly and sending wave upon wave of mental encouragement. Rubedo's got one foot on the ground, one against the wood of the chair, desperate for any way to help him press harder, hump faster, _anything._ He touches his forehead to Nigredo's shoulder and loses himself in the hasty movement of his hips. Groaning, he shudders almost violently, orgasm hitting powerfully and ebbing gradually away as he continues to thrust.

After a short while he loses the drive to keep going -- too much sensation, too soon -- and he relaxes against Nigredo's chest, all tension dissipating. He sighs deeply, content, and tries to catch his breath. 

Nigredo is, of course, unbelievably hard.

Rubedo meets his eyes, smirks, and kisses him again, working his tie loose as he does so. It's a generic one -- not Nigredo's absolute favorite, that one he couldn't bear to risk -- but still perfect. He winds the silk around one hand, leaving the other free to unzip Nigredo's pants.

It's Nigredo's turn to pant heavily against a shoulder as Rubedo strokes him, smooth silk on one side and sweaty skin on the other, deliciously thorough as his hands work up and down his length. Pulling and pressure bring him to the edge, moaning low in his throat as Rubedo pumps out the last of his release.

Rubedo lets go of the tie and puts his arms around Nigredo's neck again, holding him and rubbing his back as he, too, spirals down to sated lethargia.

"So," Nigredo manages, still breathing heavily. "Uh. Wow."

Rubedo kisses his cheek. "And yeah, seeing you dressed like that _always_ does this to me."

Still somewhat stunned, Nigredo laughs quietly. "Good to know." 


	25. 24: deceived

* * *

**( 24 )**

* * *

Rubedo's walking more or less peacefully down a Residential Area hallway when Nigredo finds him. 

It's definitely not something you see every day: his jaw is locked, molars biting down against each other; his eyes are narrowed, brows drawn; he's frowning. This worries him.

"You okay...?"

Nigredo shakes his head, and without saying a word, reaches out to his brother. He holds his hand very tightly, almost to the point of being uncomfortable. Rubedo can feel the waves of stress just as sharply. Not good. He squeezes Nigredo's hand and sends soothing thoughts his way.

Sighing in aggravation --though not with Rubedo, that much is obvious--, Nigredo quickly scans the hallway. Nobody's around, so he heads for the nearest room, Rubedo in tow. Nobody's in there, either; Nigredo shuts the door behind them.

Rubedo instantly places a hand on Nigredo's arm. "What happened?"

Nigredo growls in frustration. "Four absolutely _useless_ hours of generic conference call bullshit."

"Bullshittier than usual?" 

"Yes. Know why?"

"Why?"

"Some company we recently invested a significant amount of money in decided it'd be clever to go against everything established in Article Four."

Rubedo sighs, shaking his head in disgust. "Let me guess. More experimentation, written off as 'cutting-edge maintenance'?"

"That, and the _very _nicely worded, 'providing hospice services.'"

"Nice. Real fucking nice." He clicks his tongue. "That's... Well. We'll report them as soon as we get enough information to hold them accountable. _And_ get that money back. Give it to people who deserve it."

Nigredo goes quiet, putting his face in his hands for a moment and exhaling shakily before running his fingers back through his hair. "I'm just so tired, Rubedo." 

Rubedo wishes now more than ever that he was taller. Reaching up, he pulls his brother into a reassuring hug, petting his hair gently.

"It's alright. We'll deal with it. It'll all work out."

"I know it will."

Rubedo chuckles. "Yeah, so... I dunno. Why don't you take the day off? I'll handle anything that needs doing. You could use a break."

Nodding against his shoulder, Nigredo makes no move to leave.

Rubedo simply holds him.


	26. 25: southern sun

* * *

**( 25 )**

* * *

The sun is pleasantly hot on their skin. 

Nigredo lies face down on largish towel, head pillowed on his forearms. Rubedo sits on the small of Nigredo's back, with easy access to the rest of it.

Starting at his shoulders, Rubedo runs his fingertips lightly down his back, rubbing small spirals on both sides of his spine on the way up. The touches are gentle, soothing even when he increases the pressure. He uses the heels of his hands to work the muscles, determined to relieve the tension and stress that've manifested in his brother's body.

Nigredo sighs and mumbles contented half-words, relaxing entirely and breathing deeply. Rubedo sends him calm; Nigredo sends him gratitude.

Eventually his arms get tired, and the massage turns into affectionate -- though not absentminded -- petting. He strokes his sunwarmed skin, content to know that Nigredo's content. Leaning forward, Rubedo kisses the spot between Nigredo's shoulder blades, rests his cheek against him, and stays there.

They doze on the beach, happy to sleep in the sunlight.


	27. 26: watching

* * *

**( 26 )**

* * *

Rubedo wakes up in the middle of the night. He groggily opens his eyes, rolls over, and finds Nigredo lying on his side, looking at him. 

"Hmm?" He yawns. "You're still awake?"

"Yeah." Nigredo blinks at him, eyelashes catching on the pillowcase for a split second.

"What're you doing?"

"Watching you sleep."

Smiling, Rubedo shifts to lie flush against Nigredo; thankfully, the pillow's wide for both of them. Rubedo kisses him, light and soft and lingering.

"It's not fair, you know," Rubedo says, though he's not sure if he whispered it or sent it through the link.

Nigredo murmurs against his brother's mouth. "What's not fair?"

"We should get to watch each other for equal amounts of time."

"Mmm." Nigredo reaches for Rubedo's hand and pulls it against the left side of his chest. "You can watch me as much as you want."

Nigredo drifts off soon after, and Rubedo does just that.


End file.
